Of Wolves and Warriors
by NevaRyadL
Summary: Hawke tries to sell out Fenris to his old master, only to have his heart ripped out. And when Danarius tries to summon a demon from the Fade to his aid he instead manages to summon Sheogorath, who in turn steals the two away back to Skyrim where they are dumped into the winter wilds and later found by the Companions. Will this new land help Fenris' heart or will a certain warrior?
1. Chapter 1

"If you want the elf, then take him"

He really was not surprised, actually he had expected it come sooner. What with how that heartless bastard treated elves in general, how he treated slaves and the people around him. It was a wonder why Fenris did not get sold out earlier.

However, it was because of this arrogant heartlessness that Hawke had left his back wide open to him. It was that fatal flaw that made Isabelle and Varric move to the side and out of his way as he stalked forward. It was that fatal flaw that let Fenris thrust his hand through the man's chest and pull out the organ that pumped blood through his body, toss it in Danarius' face and then pull his arm back, letting the worthless corpse fall to the ground.

"Now it's your turn Danarius" He snarled.

And it was that fatal flaw that drew every able body to their feet and against the bastard mage.

Danarius was on his knees, Isabella idly toying with the dagger she had buried in his shoulder, smiling sadistically as Danarius grunted and groaned in pain.

Varric was putting arrows in the heads of the last of those that had claimed to be on Danarius' side. And his sister, the one that had sold him out, well the slippery little bitch had managed to slither away during the fight. But he would hunt her down, and with no master and with no Hawke to keep him here, Fenris was free to hunt her down like the savage wolf everyone thought he was.

"F-Fenris"

Idly two lightly colored eyes drifted to the old blood mage, sneering at that spark of hope that lit up in his old, cold eyes.

"I-I remember fondly when you used to harbor affection for me"

"And I remember fondly when Isabella buried that dagger in your shoulder" Fenris retorted.

Danarius grunted as said dagger was twisted around a bit, and hearing that pained grunt, like he had wanted to for so many years, brought a sadistic smile to Fenris' face. This was going along so well, now he just needed to rip the bastard's heart out with the power branded into his skin and-

Danarius' hand came up to the dagger and for a moment Fenris thought it was to fruitlessly try and dislodge it from is flesh. Blood magic did not come to his mind until Danarius pulled his bloody hand away from the dagger. And by that time he had already activated his vile curse.

The bastard mage was surrounded by red for a moment, smiling evilly as Isabella jumped backwards and away.

"Now my little wolf, where were we?" Danarius asked.

Fenris readied his blade though he knew it was hopeless. What use was might against magic? What use fighting when his master was here? What use was anything?

Danarius waved his hand, summoning a demon from the Fade.

"If you insist, pet"

In a cloud of red, it came. And for a moment, Fenris could only perceive a vaguely human outline, thinking perhaps that it was a Desire demon, both ironic and fitting considering the situation.

"What in the name of me am I doing here?!"

…What in the what?

The cloud disappeared, revealing… a man? His hair was white and slicked back, eyes the exact same color and suggesting blindness. He wore strange clothing that was half orange and half purple. And there was an air of… madness about him.

"…What are you?" Danarius asked the man, obviously not part of his plan.

"Me? Me?! You don't know who I am yet you managed to rip me from my place several realms away?!" The man snapped "I, good sir, am Sheogorath! Daedric Prince of madness!"

"Daedric? I've never heard of such things" Danarius scowled.

"Oh! Then you're going to enjoy this!" The man smiled widely before snapping his fingers and a staff magically appearing in his hands.

Fenris had a very bad feeling that something was about to go terribly wrong.


	2. Chapter 2

Sheogorath as the strange man called himself, waved his strange staff about.

Danarius started ranting about something, likely his own power and what he would do if the man did not stop. He had a habit of doing that a lot, especially if someone had found one of the kinks in his armor or if he just wanted to spout hot air.

Fenris on the other hand was helping Varric and Isabella usher people out of the bar. They could see the madness in the strange man's milky eyes, they had seen him summoned with Blood Magic, and they could taste the power rolling off of him in thick waves. They knew the man was not bluffing when he promised a good time and knew that his version of a good time would likely not preserve any innocent bystanders' lives.

"Go!" He barked, driving people out the doors with a fierce glare and a wide sweep of his gauntlet.

He had to give thanks to his scary looks because it seemed to spur people to move faster then they probably could have normally as they pushed and shoved and squeezed out the door of the dingy little tavern.

Danarius had finally snapped and sent a wave of ice the mad man's way, only for it to be swatted aside like nothing with the man's free hand. No one was supposed to be able to swat magic away like that, like it was tossed rubbish, so the comical widening of Danarius' eyes was understandable.

"Move!"

The last of the tavern patrons were finally pushed out the door, leaving the strange man, Sheogorath, Isabella, Varric, Fenris and Hawke's corpse.

"Go you two!" Fenris snapped.

"What? Sunshine, now listen here-"

"NOW!" Fenris roared.

The two exchanged worried looks, but then looked to the crazed demon man and Danarius standing there like the dumb struck fool he was. And deciding that perhaps this was a bit out of their league, they turned their heels and ran for it, following the crowd of people that were likely standing just outside the door.

Now that left Fenris, his old master and the strange, crazy man and whatever magic were hanging thickly in the air.

It was better this way. Varric still had tales to tell and maybe his telling of this tale would show the evils of magic. And Isabella still had a life of debauchery and pirating to do, it was better for her to leave despite what little affection they harbored for each other. Perhaps he would see her after this, if the mad man's magic did not leave him a bloody smear across the floor or an Abomination.

Sheogorath waved his staff again and a strange sort of light began to fill the room, like everything was starting to glow. Even more so then Fenris' tattoos when he was about to kill someone with his terrible burden.

This was not something the wolf was used to dealing with. Sure there was numerous times where he was forced to battle creatures that his master had summoned from the Fade, but this creature was obviously not from the Fade but from yet another twisted dimension.

The glowing had grown in intensity and was now making things hard to see. Soon it was impossible to make out Danarius or the mad man. And when the glow had finally robbed the wolf of his vision, he swore he heard

"And to the land of dragons and snow"

And there was complete darkness. Fenris would later realize that he had lost consciousness.

* * *

The first thing that cut through the black haze of the wolf's mind was that it was bitingly cold and the first stages of Frostbite were already settled in. His fingers and toes were painfully numb, making his slight hazy mind lament not wearing proper shoes.

The second thing was he was face first in a pile of snow, the icy mush causing a painful stiffness along the markings on his chin and throat and his long eyelashes to stick together.

This brought the wolf to the third thing. That in Kirkwall it never snowed, which meant one of two things. One being that hell was a frozen wasteland, or two, they were not in Kirkwall anymore.

He needed to get up and be sure, but his slowly freezing limbs refused to cooperate. He wanted to call for help but the frozen lyrium branded into the skin of his throat threatened an exceptionally painful experience. He... Wanted...

Blackness crept from the edges of his vision and unconsciousness threatened to steal him away.

No, no, no

He dug his fingers into the snow, teeth gritting from the pain of using frozen muscles. He grunted as he tried to force himself up, weakened arms screaming in protest. He managed to lift his head enough, for his bleary eyes to open, to take in dark green and grey and dark brown splotches before his muscles gave up and he was back in the snow.

The minuscule effort drained him and the creeping blackness took over his vision once more.

* * *

Warmth woke him, gently lulling him from sleep. Slowly and sweetly wrapping around him and prying him from the bitter grip of the cold.

He whimpered, mind too fuddled to work and comprehend. His limbs refused to do anything other than be shifted around, pressed closer to the warmth. But all too grateful for the small comfort.

Words were spoken perhaps but Fenris found his ears not working properly and could hardly make out anything. Something about saving and warmth, Daedric princes, and... Boss-a-mur?

Where was Danarius? Did the bastard still live?

He wanted to get up and move, to see if that old bastard still let lived... But his stupid arms and legs! They refused to move away from the warmth, away from the small comfort. And the more he tried to get them to move the more they refused too.

Agitation forced a sound of distress from his throat and the words stopped. There was sweet silence for a moment... Leaving the wolf to wonder if they thought he could actually understand them. And then something that felt suspiciously like large calloused hands pressed against the sides of his face. They felt so warm and gentle that it stirred some strength in the wolf's chilled bones and managed to open his eyes.

His unfocused eyes found splotches of brown, yellow, pale skin and black.

"Who?" He rasped.

The splotches moved and his muddled ears caught

"Farkas" A deep sound rumbled.

And Fenris' eyes closed on their own accord. And blackness took over.

* * *

Farkas gently lowered the elf back into the makeshift cocoon of blankets they had wrapped around him, watching his features relax into sleep.

"Farkas my boy! That elf say anything?" Gunnar called from where he stood over the groaning old Mage.

"Who" Farkas shrugged.

"The elf"

"Yeah, who"

"My word! The elf Farkas! What did the elf say?!"

"The elf said who"

"Oh! Well I guess we weren't going to get much out of him anyway, being like he is, certainly had hoped that we could have gotten something out of this guy" Gunnar sighed, nudging the unconscious Mage "Cause he shouldn't have tried that magic trick on us"

Vilkas nodded, scraping bits of ice off his armor where the Mage had managed to get him, before Gunnar had gone into a blood rage and knocked his lights out.

"Oh well, pack them both up, we'll haul them over to..." He paused to think of where the nearest village was "Windhelm, get them properly treated and then figure out what to do"

Farkas nodded before gently picking the elf up, pressing that cold face against the side of his neck to protect it from the cold. When he had finally had the elf arranged, the newly bound Mage had been strapped to Gunnar's back while Vilkas, the new recruit and Alea took point.

"Move out Companions!" Gunnar ordered, spurring the small group into movement.

They began the trek outside the cave they had taken shelter in to care for the two they had found out in the snow and then towards the city of Jarl Ulfric. Farkas could not help but think of the Jarl's reaction to his old friend bringing an elf and a Mage into his city seeking aid.

"Harbinger, OdKaaz is not welcome in Windhelm" Their newest recruit noted.

"They'll let you in my furry friend" Gunnar grinned at the Khajiit "Especially if I say you're with me"

"Alright Harbinger, but OdKaaz will still be mocked"

Gunnar stopped, looking up at the massive Khajiit.

He was bigger the Gunnar or Farkas, white and black fur covered body thick with intimidating muscles, long and sharp teeth jutting from his upper lip and a pair of icy white eyes that always seemed to glare at everything. Not to mention the massive set of Dragon Bone armor that adorned his body, as well as the equally large single handed Daedric sword and Daedric shield and Dragon Bone bow (that was as tall as the elf Farkas carried) he carried.

"I think you'll be fine" Gunnar grinned.

"You're words reassure me" Od-Kaaz retorted.

"Lighten up Odd, what's the worse that Ulfric could do?"

"Kick the lot of us out, disgrace your name, send his Stormcloak army against us and forever haunt our lives?" Od-Kaaz suggested.

"It was a rhetorical question!"

* * *

Hey pups! Since a few people showed interest in this I decided to whip up another chapter. Sorry for shitty quality, I found a way to work on chapters but it's on my breaks during work and I quite honestly hate a lot of things about my job at this point *sigh*. Anyway you may have noticed a familiar name and a new name in this chapter. That's because I lost sleep wither or not to use any of my DBs during this story and in a bout of sleepless madness I threw in every. single. one. of. them. THAT'S RIGHT! ALL MY FUKKING DBs ARE IN THIS NOW (though everyone but Gunnar have become normal background characters that might get a few one shots).

Anyway, reviews, faves, and follows are always appreciated.

Good night/good morning/good afternoon, love ya pups!


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